


D.O.A.

by veryconfidentsandwichshapedfreedom



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Horror, Gen, POV First Person, POV Molly, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veryconfidentsandwichshapedfreedom/pseuds/veryconfidentsandwichshapedfreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I remember</i>
  <br/>
  <i>We were flying along</i>
  <br/>
  <i>And hit something in the air</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	D.O.A.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a songfic  
> d.o.a. belongs to bloodrock and divergent belongs to veronica roth and harpercollins
> 
> also this contains a few fairly gory descriptions of injuries and some disturbing subject matter so if you're squeamish or under twelve i personally recommend that you don't continue reading
> 
> au: edward does a lot worse to drew and molly than what happens in canon. myra morphs into nurse joy and tries to save their butts.
> 
> all set to obscure classic rock. welcome to the trashcan.

_ Laying here, looking at the ceiling_

The first thing I sense is the splitting pain coming from my abdomen. Sharp little twinges shoot behind my eyes, curling down my neck and shoulders, and most of my body feels fatigued, as if I'd just sprinted several miles. There is a copper taste in my mouth. The ground is hard under me.

Where am I? I open my eyes, and my vision is slightly blurry. Only slightly can I make out a sky above, puffy with ominous gray clouds. The buildings that usually reach up like fingers are nothing more than black and gray blotches.

_ Someone lays a sheet across my chest _

I hear a human voice, but it doesn't make any sense. What it says sounds like English, but I cannot perceive a meaning. I tilt my head toward the source, and a patch of excruciating pain fills my skull and covers my neck.

I barely know the girl the voice came from. Why is Myra with me? I don't remember going anywhere with her. In fact, I had only seen her once since she left Dauntless, when Drew was talking to Edward—

Edward. Edward beat us up. He'd said that he had forgiven us, that we could stay with him as long as we didn't cause trouble. I awoke to the sound of choking that night. Drew had gone purple, so I leapt in to get Edward off of him, swinging my fists in wild arcs and ripping out tufts of golden yellow hair. But I couldn't remember what happened after he pulled the knife on me.

"You're still awake! I thought you weren't coming back after... after that. Can you hear me now?"

I hear Myra's voice again. This time, I can understand her. I try to shake out a reply, but even opening my lips hurts. They're stuck together with their own dryness. But I am strong, and I know I must answer her.

"I'm... here," I say.

_ Something warm is flowing down my fingers_

It sounds stupid coming out of my mouth. I tip back my head, unable to keep it upright any longer. It hits the cement with a tiny thump.

Myra stoops down and kneels over my waist. She grabs for my hand, and I wince. My fingers are warm and sticky, and every nerve is throbbing.

"You're losing so much blood... I'm surprised you're still alive. Maybe there's a chance now..."

_ Pain is flowing all through my back_

Her grip is too rough on my tender hand. I try to shake it loose, but instantly erupt into a scream. It is the worst pain I have ever experienced, taking hold of my entire body in deep, unrelenting claws. I like to see the pain of others, but for a moment, I feel nothing but sympathy for those I've hurt in the past.

Myra places my arm back down as gently as she can. "Sorry! Are you okay?"

_ I try to move my arm and there's no feeling _

I groan in reply, and try to reach for her with my other hand. Pain surges through my back, but I barely sense it, since everything is at least aching now. Strangely, I don't feel anything after my mid-bicep. A much larger amount of pain has localized there.

I look over and instantly feel tears rush to my eyes.

_ And when I look, I see there's nothing there _

My arm is nothing but a bloody stump, chunks of stringy red flesh dangling out the end. As I pull the tip of the remainder into view, I see my bone, snapped like a twig. The break is jagged, and points of the hard outer layer stick out. I nearly faint, but manage to fight the feeling.

"I... I lost my arm?" I cry, glancing back up at Myra. A hollow sensation fills my chest.

She gives me a worried look, and I can sense that she's struggling to find what to say. 

"You fell unconscious for a while. It was so terrible. He cut d-down to bone, and t-tore it clean off. I couldn't s-s-stop him until he'd already d-d-done it."

Still shocked by the story of Edward's excessive brutality, I choke up as I remember dark ginger hair and pale blue eyes. If Edward had done this to me, when I had nothing to do with what he'd attacked us over, not even the darkest recesses of my mind could conjure up what he'd done to Drew, Peter's main co-conspirator.

_ The face beside me stopped its holy bleeding_

I look to my right this time. About five feet away, Drew lies motionless on the concrete, blood pooled around him. His clothes are soaked with scarlet, and so is his hair. He has so many defensive wounds on his arms and hands that there is more torn flesh than skin, and what little is left has long since lost its color to dried blood.

_ The girl I knew has such a distant stare_

There are fewer slashes on his neck than his arms, and the injury that sticks out the most is the thick line of purple bruises where hands had wrapped tight around his neck. 

I realize that there is no chance he is alive.  His sides are still, and he gazes endlessly at the sky, eyes wide and glossy.

_ Then I look straight at the attendant_

I hold back the urge to vomit, and instead glance back up at Myra. The boy I'd grown up with is laying dead next to me. Peter abandoned us, and now Drew is dead. That leaves me. But am I next? Everything does seem a little fuzzier than it did when I woke up. I let myself cry freely now, out of fear and pain and grief, the uncertainty of the situation too much to handle, more than I have ever experienced.

_His face is pale as it can be_

Myra's holding her chest with one hand. She's drained of color, and is crying with me. "Molly, you're still bleeding..." she whimpers, brushing her other hand across my temple. 

_He bends and whispers something softly_

I respond back, each word a little harder to get out. "Is that bad?"

I start laughing. I know I shouldn't be laughing. Why am I laughing? Each wheeze makes the nerves in my chest explode into pure agony. Drew is dead. I am bleeding. What is funny? 

_He says there's no chance for me_

Myra breathes deeply, lips trembling. The hand that had been on her chest drops to the ground to support her as she leans forward and puts two fingers on my neck to check my pulse.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The words sound odd coming from such a meek voice. She leaps off me and scrambles around in circles for a moment, then pauses, shaking. Her nose is running, and her once-white face is now rosy-pink.

"Help!" she shouts. When nothing happens, she shouts again. Her panicked cries fade out, echoing a few times before disappearing entirely. The futility of her actions is the same as the futility to remain here. No matter how long and loud she screams, no one will help her. No matter how much I cling to life right now, I know I will die.

_Life is flowing out my body_

I haven't lost the will to live, but I have lost any hope that I will. It is an incredibly Erudite response to death for a girl who never thought for a moment that she belonged there. 

I can hear Myra's voice growing hoarse as she keeps begging as loudly as she can for the assistance that won't come in time, if it comes at all. I have submitted now. 

_Pain is flowing out with my blood_

I no longer feel attached to my body. All of what I felt is gone. Now Myra is back over me. She is nothing more than an erratically moving blur. I see her shaking my shoulders, wailing at me to awaken, to come back, not to leave her. I am determined to go. I have too much dignity to suffer.

_The sheets are red and moist where I'm lying_

My vision is dim, and every breath I take seems tedious. My entire perception is fading. 

_God in Heaven, teach me how to die!_

Quickly and effortlessly, I let myself sink into nothingness.

_I remember_

_We were flying along_

_And hit something in the air_

_I remember_

_We were flying along_

_And hit something in the air_


End file.
